


Day One Hundred Thirteen || Garden Spirit

by 365daysofsasuhina



Series: 365 Days of SasuHina 2019 [113]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 21:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18582508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/365daysofsasuhina/pseuds/365daysofsasuhina
Summary: In his travels, the samurai Sasuke stumbles upon a hidden, holy grove...and the spirit who lives there.





	Day One Hundred Thirteen || Garden Spirit

He’s been traveling for weeks.

Tasked by his lord to fetch the pelt a rare white deer, he’s been tracking a promising herd through the mountains. The wary creatures have yet to let him close, but a glimpsing flash of white has kept him on their path. Through the winding peaks their game trails he’s toiled, the rocky and root-ridden terrain perilous...but a samurai is not one to be so easily dissuaded.

At first, he’d assumed the assignment a fool’s errand. Why task a samurai with such a job? But with the completion of his mission will come great pride, honor...and coin. None of which he can bring himself to refuse.

And so, Sasuke follows the imprints of cloven hooves into the north, swords at his hip and bow at his back. Hunting, at least, he knows he can do. Many times in his youth did his brother take him tracking boars in the forests. And he’s not the novice he was then. All he needs is the patience for the proper shot...and he’s sure he won’t miss.

Their path, he admits, confuses him. He knows of migrations into the mountains for the sika, but surely the coming of Spring means returning to the lowlands as the grass renews?

Where are they going?

His confusion lingers as they travel further and further into the range. But then, at last, he sees what they’ve been seeking. The trail descends steeply between two peaks...into a lush and untouched valley.

For a time, he simply stands at the trailhead and stares in wonder. Tall camphor trees litter the inner sides of the peaks and the valley itself, waterfalls cascading from the snowy caps. A winding river of sapphire glitters, barely seen along the vale’s spine.

It’s beautiful…!

Once his awe fades, Sasuke gives a shake of his head. He still has a pelt to fetch, and standing here won’t get him home any faster. With careful steps, he makes his way to the valley floor.

It’s there he finds something wholly unexpected.

Though the trail leads first to the northern end of the valley, the rest spanning south, a short path leads a bit further up. At the fork, a worn torī gates stands. Are there...people here? He’d seen no houses from his view atop the trail, and there are no footprints, only tracks of game. Perhaps those who’d lived here have long perished. Judging by the age of the wood and the peeling vermillion paint...it’s not been tended to for quite some time.

...and yet…

Such a gate marks the threshold between mortal and holy ground. Sasuke sees no shrine...but the landmark makes him wary. Should he hunt in such a place? His lord has given him an order. He cannot disobey. But which does he fear more: an angry clan head, or vengeful kami?

True, Sasuke isn’t a devout follower of any faith. Samurai adopt a variety of beliefs: Buddhism, Zen, Confucianism, and even the land’s own religion of Shintō. But though he may not actively believe such tales...nor is he foolish enough to tempt what he cannot confirm does not exist.

For now, he steps through the gate...but rather than south after the deer, he treks north. It isn’t far to where the valley begins to slope steeply upward, but something grand has caught his eye.

Oddly isolated from the camphor boughs and trunks of the rest of the valley, a lone wisteria tree stands. Tall and branching, it looks over the head of the valley like a great amethyst crown, graceful branches sweeping the ground with their violet tendrils. Petals litter the grass, making its perch appear almost alien as it’s completely covered with purple blooms. And among them, small and worn, are tiny stone jinja.

Twisting and curved, the trunk is wider across than his arms outstretched: clearly hundreds of years old. Never has he seen a tree of greater age or beauty.

It’s like looking at a goddess taken flora form.

For the second time this day, he finds himself staring in unabashed awe. He’s almost certain of it, now: the gate, this tree, the valley...it’s all touched by gods. But what to do about his quest…? Surely taking a life for so vain a thing as a single pelt - not even meat, though he himself won’t waste it - will see him smote.

Looking over his shoulder to the west, the sun is already far below the peaks. Soon it will be too dark to make his way. He should make camp...he can weigh his options, and then sleep on making a decision.

A fire he makes back down the slope, cooking a rabbit he’d slain that morning before entering the valley. Water comes from the obliging river, refilling his skin and letting him nurse the cool clear liquid as he thinks.

...perhaps…

He looks over his shoulder to the wisteria tree. Even from here, he can see the tiny shrines. A decision weighs upon his shoulders. He could...pray. Ask for guidance. He may not be a staunch believer, but...well, surely it cannot hurt. Once his meal is done, he smothers the ashes with earth, carrying a torch back to the tree to kneel at its base.

Something about it raises the hairs along the back of his neck.

Extinguishing his flames, he braces his hands on his knees before leaning reverently forward. “O-kami-sama,” he offers vaguely, having no named deity to address. “I ask you passage through your valley...and a sample of your bounty. Among your herds of deer is a stag I seek. One of a white coat, sought by my master. His decree weighs upon me...but so too does the mark of this holy land. I will take only what I need. If that is not too much to ask...give me leave, and I will complete my task...and then leave this land in peace.”

A soft wind rolls through the valley. Along his cheek, a branch gently whispers.

But he hears nothing.

Sighing, head bowing further in what feels like defeat, Sasuke continues to think in circles.

Before he realizes it...he falls prey to a weary sleep.

He is slow to wake.

Sunlight faintly dapples his face, bleeding and shifting through the dancing boughs of the wisteria in the morning breeze. Leaned back against the trunk, a hand rests loosely atop the hilt of his katana, the other along his waist.

In his dream, he can feel arms drape over his shoulders, silken hair slithering along his neck.

Dark eyes slowly open, for a moment at a loss as to where he is, and why. But his journey slowly returns, and he sighs. What a place to doze off...it’s like he’s wandered into a kami’s palace of boughs and blooms.

As he watches, a figure seems to manifest before his eyes between the sweeping tendrils of branches.

Breath stoppers in his lungs.

A woman of short stature stands at the edge of the tree’s grasp. A layered kimono of lilac, violet, heather, and wine flutters in the breeze. Hair, straight as a blade, drapes down her back and across her brow, alight amethyst in the sun. Even her eyes are pools of lavender. Everything purple save for the milky white of her skin, and the faint pink of her lips.

She stares at him, otherwise unearthly still beyond the dance of her garment. Every so often, he sees tabi-clad feet atop impossibly-high geta.

It’s then Sasuke knows...he’s staring at a goddess. The spirit of this heavenly garden. It feels sinful to stare, but he can’t look away…!

“Humble hunter.”

She speaks like silk, soft and delicate...and yet unspeakably strong. Her gaze never wavers as she addresses him.

“You have traveled far at the whim of another...and here your search has brought you...to a vale of spirits and gods. While many would take without a second thought...you have asked of me permission to have what you seek.”

His heart flutters like a bird trapped behind glass against his ribs. Surely he still sleeps...this must be a dream…! And yet he’s felt so awake...so alive…

“The white buck you track is a sacred beast...your lord covets it for his own. You, who serve his beck and call, are merely the tool...not the desire. This I cannot fault you. But it is not I you must ask, and appease. I am but one spirit of this valley. There are others far mightier than I. They too know of your task...and that I gave you shelter.”

It’s then she begins to approach him, untouched by weaving branches despite her unwavering path. Not a single petal stirs at her passing

“It has been many a year since a human slept beneath my boughs...or spoke amongst my blossoms. It brings...a melancholy feeling. A reminiscence of loneliness…”

He can’t move, can’t speak, frozen beneath her gaze as she closes the gap between them. In a fluid motion she kneels, and hands - cool and smooth, like a freshly-bloomed flower - cup his cheeks to behold him.

“...I was young when the humans withered here...when we kami were left to our devices, no devoted voices left to speak to us. I admit...I covet your presence...it’s been so long since my beauty was last admired…”

Sasuke can do little more than stare.

“...but you are not mine to keep. I will take you to the others. The heart of the mountain, of the river, of the camphor. It is they you must appeal. Prove the purity of your intentions, human...and you may have what you seek. Just remember the weight of your prize...and the wake it will leave.”

At last, he manages a nod: small, jerking, and entirely human in the face of her grace.

A fond smile curls her lips. “...may I have your name, child of man?”

“U...Uchiha. Sasuke.”

“...you may call me Hinata.” Toward the sun. A fitting name for such a blossom-laden beauty...for he knows there’s no mistake: she is the kodama of the wisteria.

With just as smooth a motion as her kneeling, she returns to her feet. “Uchiha Sasuke...are you prepared to plead your case…?”

Still sat among the jinja, he stares up at her, yet still entranced. Never has he seen a woman of such beauty. Though many have labored to conquer it...with a single glance, she’s stolen his heart. A dangerous thing to give a kami, he knows.

But there’s little taking it back now. 

“...I am.”

“...then let us walk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhh man, I REALLY like this one! I want to add more parts, for sure...but I had to stop myself here, haha - it's late, and I don't want any of these to get too long xD
> 
> It took some digging, but I managed to find a way to turn this prompt into something Shintō-related. Kodama, though often depicted as separate spirits, CAN also refer to the trees themselves. So I did a little extra (and admittedly rushed) research into them, and samurai, and just...wung it, lol - and I really, REALLY like the result. Hinata as a wisteria tree spirit? PERFECT! And maybe later on we can have Sakura as...well, a sakura kodama. Maybe Naruto as a kitsune. We'll have to see!
> 
> But for now, it's late, and I need sleep after a sleepless night last night (yay toothaches, lol) - but thanks so much for reading! See y'all tomorrow n_n


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